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corazondebeskar-reads · 11 months ago

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well it's love, make it hurt - epilogue

well it's love, make it hurt series

epilogue: I will never make another promise (without you)

series masterlist | prev chapter |

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Words: 4.6k

Summary: You and Din travel in your quest to reunite the baby with his people and to seek out the Tribe.

Warnings: bdsm, d/s dynamics, enthusiastic consent, preestablished safeword etc, dom!din djarin x sub!reader, soft din djarin, din djarin is a good dad, vaginal sex, communication, major life decisions, author plays god with the timelines (sorry), canon adjacent?, canon divergence?, no use of y/n, tooth-rotting fluff, they deserve it, you deserve it

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

9 ABY - Winter

“Alor,” Din says, bowing his head.

“Din Djarin,” she says. “You have an aruetti with you.”

You’ve known her for twenty seconds, and you’re in awe. Her voice is strong and unwavering, demanding attention. And, respectfully, she looks badass. You had never seen another Mandalorian, and from what Din had told you, you assumed they all looked similar.

But she looks every inch a queen.

“She wants to swear the Creed,” Din says.

The Armorer gives you her full attention now, having only spared you a glance before. “Does she wish to speak for herself?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s true. I would like to learn to walk the way of the Mand’alor, if you’ll have me.” You try to keep your spine straight and your head up, not to hide away from the appraising stare.

“Hmm,” she turns her helmet back to Din. “Is this the hunter you spoke of before?”

“Yes, alor. She is a very skilled and honorable fighter.”

“Well,” you interrupt, face heating from his praise. “I don’t know about skilled. I’m not formally trained, but I’d be honored to really learn.”

They both look at you now, and you wish you hadn’t spoken. But if you’re going to do this, you know you can’t allow cowardice to rule any part of you anymore.

And you want this. With or without Din. You’re surprised a little, now that you’re here, and it’s a real possibility, by the ferociousness of your desire.

The first choice you had ever really made for yourself was asking him to work with you. The second was leaving him.

This will be the defining moment for the rest of your life, you think.

She nods. “It is settled. You will continue on your quest to Corvus,” she says to Din. “You,” she turns, “will remain here and train. When he returns, you will be ready to begin an apprenticeship to earn your beskar’gam.”

“I can train her,” Din says, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t imagine you’d be separated. Not when he’d only just gotten you back.

“No. Paz will train her. You will continue on your mission in the morning.”

Din doesn’t like it. You don’t need him to say it; it’s written in the sharp lines of his shoulders and tapping of his thumb against his thigh. You catch his anxious hand and thread your fingers between his, bringing it up to your lips.

“It’ll be okay,” you say. You’re back on the Crest, though they had offered you both lodging. But given that they were living in a small cave system, there wasn’t likely to be any privacy. And you really wanted some privacy.

Din sighs but uses your linked hands to tug you into his lap. You settle with your thighs spread over him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You press your forehead to his helmet. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He doesn’t say it, but you know he’s remembering that you promised last time, too. His arms wrap around your waist, bare hands skimming up the back of your shirt.

Even his touch feels sad, so you go in for the kill. “I love you, Din.”

His grasp tightens, the sudden press of his nails drawing a gasp from you. “I love you too, cyare.”

Hearing you say it still makes his heart catch on something sharp and intoxicating. Even after the day you left Batuu, when he finally fucked you in the bunk on the Crest again, right where you belonged, and you had sobbed it over and over while he teased you for hours.

He thinks maybe you need a repeat of that to hold you over while he’s gone. When he says as much, you shudder and rock your hips against him.

“Actually,” he says, sliding his hands to your hips. “You just keep doing that for now.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re practically panting. You’ve shifted so your aching cunt is dragging over the armor on his right thigh, hands clenched in his cowl while you whine.

“What a little slut,” he muses. “Look at you. So desperate you’d fuck anything, huh?”

You shake your head.

“No? If I told you to go get yourself off on the edge of the table, would you do it?”

“Fuck,” you gasp. “Yes, sir.”

“So I’m right, then.”

“No. Wouldn’t f-fuck anything. Just anything you want.”

He moans, hips pushing up and jostling you.

You try to take advantage of it and shift to rub against his crotch, but he tightens his grip and laughs. “Nice try, sweetheart. But I know you’re always desperate for my cock. I want to see you crying to cum just from this.”

He gets his wish soon. You’re already on the edge of begging, and his words just make it worse. “Please,” you whine. “Please just let me have it.”

He withdraws a hand from your shirt and smacks your ass. “I gave you an answer.”

“Ah, fuck, please.”

He can sense the shift in your tone. “Please what, cyar’ika?”

“Please, more.”

Instead of teasing you, he simply shifts you over his lap. He makes sure your cunt can still grind against the edge of his armor before he yanks your pants down over your ass and gives it a hard slap.

“This what you wanted?” He asks, striking you again.

“Yes, please, sir,” you cry, squirming and digging your hands around his calf to hold steady.

He delivers a few more blows and pauses to rub a soothing hand where your skin is already hot. “You beg so prettily. Do it again.”

And there it goes. He grins, feral behind the helmet, as fat tears well up and spill over onto your cheeks.

“Please, please hit me. Please, I’ve been so good. I want to be good.”

He hits hard enough this time that you have to bite your hand to swallow the scream. “You are good,” he murmurs between strikes. “You’re my good girl. I’ve got you.”

He spanks you until the tears run dry. By that time, you’re not squirming or struggling in his grasp. You’ve calmed, floating away in the safety of his cruel, caring hands. Your breathing is deep and easy, though he knows you’re awake by the soft moans.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he says, tugging you up by the hair. “Get down and clean it up.”

When you sink to your knees, he can see the faraway look in your eyes and soft contentment in the slight upturn of your lips. You lean forward and obediently lick his thigh plate clean of your arousal, eyes on him the whole time.

“Fuck, pretty girl. C’mere, I need your cunt.”

He’s not sure you’ve ever been this deep in subspace before. You don’t jump and scramble to obey, but lick your lips clean and slowly climb up into his lap, holding onto his shoulders carefully as he peels your pants off the rest of the way. You watch as he pulls his cock out with glazed eyes and an open, aching mouth.

He considers letting you suck it for a moment, given how you’re looking at him like a sweet to be devoured. But he runs a finger through your dripping folds, and the low keen it draws from you changes his mind.

You scoot forward when he taps your leg, looking right into the visor as you hover over him.

He gives you a nod, and you sink down slowly, shoulders curling back and eyes rolling closed as you take your fill. He brings a hand up to your neck, and you lean your head back, arching to give him better access.

There are no words to be said, now. No teasing or taunting, no begging or crying. He tightens the hand around your throat when he starts to fuck up into you, his other hand holding you steady by the hip.

Your lips part, tingling as he slowly cuts off the blood flow. Soft, wavering gasps leak out, but you couldn’t make a sound if you wanted to. He brings his other hand to your face and slides his thumb into your open mouth.

You close your lips around it, trying to suck even though it feels like you’re struggling for air. He curls the other fingers around your jaw, releasing your throat only to drag that hand down to your clit and start to unravel you.

You whine when he pulls his thumb from your mouth, only for it to stutter when he pinches your nipple between his finger and the wet digit. He tugs on it, his breath catching as you arch and press your chest into his hand, not to run from the pain but to offer more, more, more. To pour yourself out in his basin and let him soak you up as he pleases.

It’s a gift he could never refuse, so he lets up on his soft strokes to your clit and indulges in the soft moans and sweet cries you make when he torments your breasts, and the way you get tighter and wetter around him.

A particularly cruel pinch finally tears a plea from you on a whisper.

“Yes,” he growls, and holds you to him through your climax by the tight clamp of his fingers on your nipples. The pain that blossoms when you jerk against his grip uncontrollably pushes you into a second orgasm from the crest of the first.

“Fuck yes, give it to me. Give me everything,” he huffs, bucking into your spasming cunt. When your cries turn a little sharp, he eases up and rubs his thumbs soothingly over your aching nipples before pulling you against his chest.

You cling onto him, face buried in his cowl as he bounces you, cock buried deep with each staccato thrust.

After he fills you, he keeps you there, seated on his cock, with his cum slowly leaking as he softens. He cups your head where it rests against him and savors the way the silent ship is filled with peace.

You’re blinking sleepily, but he doesn’t have the willpower to move to the bunk, content to stay here on the bench with you dozing in his arms.

Your bodies regret it in the morning, but it’s hard to care when the warmth and safety overpower the aches in your neck and back. You share a rinse in the refresher, chaste until it isn’t. After the kid wakes up, you play with him for a few minutes until the sun is finally breaking the horizon, and you know you have to go.

Din offers to walk you in, to stay until you’re settled, but you shake your head. At the top of the ramp, you stop him with a hand to his chest. You slide both hands up to his shoulders, and he settles his on your waist, bringing your foreheads together.

While he’s distracted with the kiss, you unlatch his cloak from around his shoulders. He pulls back, head tilted.

“What’re you up to?”

You grin, folding your prize in your arms. “Just helping myself to a blanket.”

He laughs and pulls you in close, savoring the feeling and hoping it holds him over until he can return.

“Be safe,” you whisper, trying not to tear up.

“Kick Paz’s ass,” he whispers back.

It works. The laughter chases away your sadness, and you press a kiss to his helmet before turning to walk down the ramp.

When you get to the mouth of the cavern, you turn and wave. Din has the baby in his arms, both of them waving back as the ramp raises.

You thought it would be harder. But you smile while you watch the Crest ascend. Your chest feels tight but warm, and you turn to face your new adventure.

Three Weeks Later

You’re sitting on the floor of the large cavern, the sandy floor cushioning your aching tailbone. Your flightsuit is drenched in sweat beneath the weighted flak vest you’ve been living in.

Technically, Paz said to wear it during training, but you’ve been trying to acclimate to what life will be like with armor. He hasn’t commented, but you think he approves of your choice.

His booming voice echoes in the chamber. “Two minutes and we begin again.”

You nod, still trying to regulate your breathing. You sip carefully from the canteen and wonder, as you do with every spare moment, how Din and the baby are. If they’ve found a Jedi. Or a jetii, you suppose.

“What does cyar’ika mean?” you say suddenly. Paz has been teaching you Mando’a while you train, but it hasn’t occurred to you to ask.

You would have rather asked Din, but you forgot your commlink on the Crest. It’s made the days a little harder than you anticipated.

Paz laughs. Your face and ears burn, and you wish you hadn’t said anything.

“Is that what my vod calls you?” he says.

“Sometimes.” You do not like the tone of his voice.

“I’m not laughing at you, vod’ika. Just at how soft he’s gone.”

You scowl.

“It means sweetheart,” he finally explains.

You burn even hotter.

“What about cyare?” You ask, turning your humiliation into determination. And your brain backpedals. “Vod’ika?”

“Cyare is the base for cyar’ika. What do you think it means?”

“Oh! So… I’m going to guess ‘big sweetheart’ isn’t it. It’s like a more serious nickname?’”

“Exactly. It’s probably closest to ‘beloved.’ And then vod’ika would be…?”

“Little brother? Or, well, little sister?”

“Very good,” he says. His praise warms you, but in a much different way than Din’s.

You think back over the words. “Oh,” you say.

“What?”

You hadn’t meant to be speaking to Paz or out loud at all. “You called me vod’ika.”

Somehow, you find that more surprising than the revelation that Din has been calling you his beloved.

“Yes,” he says.

“I haven’t sworn the Creed yet.”

“No matter. You will. And Djarin is my vod, no matter how irritating he is, so anyone who is to be his riduur is my vod, too.”

“Riduur?”

“Spouse. Wife,” he says.

That slows your brain like molasses. “I don’t know about that,” you say with a forced chuckle.

“Regardless. You’re doing well and will make a strong addition to our tribe. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” you can’t help but agree.

“Enough resting. Pick up your weapon,” he says gruffly, readying himself to spar with you once more.

You grab the bevii’ragir and use it to pull yourself to your feet.

It’s late afternoon when your lesson is interrupted.

“I call next challenger.”

You turn immediately to the voice like a flower to the sun, grinning and dodging Paz’s spear.

Din meets you halfway and pulls you to him. You slide your arms under his to wrap up around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his beskar’ta before burying your face in his cowl.

“You take good care of my girl, vod?”

“Your girl can take care of herself,” Paz rumbles, suddenly close. He puts a hand on Din’s shoulder near where you’re clinging to him and shakes a little before pulling back.

“Yeah, she can,” Din says, voice thick with adoration. You lift your head to meet his and realize the next time you do this, the next time you share a mirshmure’cya, you’ll be in a helmet.

As if he can tell what you’re thinking, he asks if you’re ready. He’s addressing you, but Paz answers.

“She’s been ready. You’re late.”

Din watches the hopeful smile blossom across your face. Not the one that makes him want to grab you by the shoulders and beg you to stop being surprised by being loved, but one that tells him you might just be starting to understand.

“Did you go easy on him, ner kar’ta?” he teases, thrilled to be rewarded by your laugh.

He leaves your side only to go collect Grogu from the Armorer, who was fitting him with beskar chainmail forged from the spear he brought home.

They find you on the shore after. The kid toddles over excitedly, eager to show off his new, shiny shirt. You coo over it and praise him, but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

He sits down next to you, watching as Grogu torments the tiny, shimmering purple fish in the shallows. “You know,” he starts.

“I’m not changing my mind,” you interrupt. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, but I want this. It’s… it’s a good fear, I think.”

“Spoken like a true Mandalorian,” he says. “Courage can’t exist without fear.”

“You sound like him when you say that,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, helmet to the sky for a moment. “We did grow up together.”

“I know. He said you were a parasite that never left him alone.”

“I should have come home faster. Leaving you with him was a mistake,” he grumbles. He fills you in about the village, then. About Elsbeth and Ahsoka Tano. About her refusal to train Grogu.

“She can’t train him because he loves you too much? That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I don’t want to be an obstacle for him.”

“He’s a baby! He needs a father far more than he needs whatever lonely life they live.”

He loves the sentiment. He does. But you both know he’ll continue on this quest until it’s completed, one way or another. And you know you’ll follow him wherever it takes him.

At dusk, as you kneel in the shallows, the pull of the gentle waves sink you into the sand bit by bit. It’s not a long ceremony; it’s perfectly Mandalorian in its succinct and practical nature. But you can feel the heaviness. It pulls you down faster than the water, and you let it fill the gaps between the sinew of your ribcage.

When your alor places the helmet upon you, the first things you see through your new eyes are Din and the baby, waiting for you to come back to shore.

“This is gonna take some getting used to,” you say as you shift around, trying to figure out the right arrangement of pillows to support your neck in spite of the helmet.

“What if it didn’t have to?” Din says.

“What do you mean?”

“Marry me.”

You sit up and turn to face him. “You're serious?”

He sits up and switches on the light. “Completely.” For the first time, he has no idea what you’re feeling or thinking. You’re holding very still but without seeing your face… this must be how you felt all this time.

“You’re serious,” you whisper. Your modulator barely picks it up.

“I am. Marry me, cyare.”

“Okay.”

“‘Okay’? That’s it?”

You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t translate. You haven’t adapted to exaggerating your body language yet. “Yes, Din. Of course.”

“Right now.”

“Right now?!”

“Did Paz teach you anything about riduurok?”

“Just that it means marriage.”

“I ask him to do one thing,” he grumbles.

“Hang on, what? You asked Paz to teach me about Mandalorian marriages?”

“Yes, that shabuir.”

“Oh. You—you actually planned this,” you say. “This isn’t impulsive. You planned on proposing to me in bed.”

“I planned on proposing to you once we were home. You’re the one who went to bed right away.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, right now. Marry me right now.” You can’t believe you’re saying it. Or maybe you can. Because it’s Din. It’s always been Din. “How does it work?”

“It’s just us. There are vows. And then, we share ourselves with one another. Then we can know each other completely.”

“Teach me.”

So he does. He shows you the words and their meanings; he shows you the ways he’s been giving you his heart and making room for yours.

You leave the words open on the datapad so you can see them. Somehow, you’ve ended up in his lap, inches from each other. The vows are easy, the decision so painfully obvious you don’t have a single doubt. The Mando’a tumbles from your lips slowly, in harmony with him.

Mhi solus tome. Of course you are one together. That’s never been a question.

Mhi solus dar’tome. It had been true even when it wasn’t. You were one while apart, if only in that you held each other in your hearts for all those years. But it had been enough.

Mhi me’dinui an. There wasn’t a thing between you left unshared now.

Mhi ba’juri verde. Din may have his doubts about Grogu’s future, but you know he loves him. Unconditionally, eternally. And maybe, someday, you’ll share that love with more.

You rip your helmet off without hesitation. It’s easy still, for you.

Later, you’ll grow accustomed to its heft and the way only your aliit can see the you beneath. Later, you’ll appreciate better what it takes for Din to do the same.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “You saw me three hours ago.”

“You’re beautiful every time I see you.”

Your face burns, but you don’t have to be embarrassed for long. In fact, you stop thinking about it immediately as he raises his hands to the bottom of his helmet.

You squeeze your eyes shut automatically.

He sees you once he’s removed it and huffs a breath. “Cyare, open your eyes.”

“It feels wrong,” you say.

“Ner riduur. You are mine and I am yours. Please open your eyes.”

You do. Your heart is thundering, a painful clench in your chest. You lean back, cupping his face in your hands.

No words come. All you can do is stare, lips parted, greedily taking in every piece of him. Your fingers follow your eyes, brushing through his dark curls and tracing the curve of his cheek.

He’s barely breathing, staring up at you with big, beautiful brown eyes, wetness starting to well.

“Din,” you breathe.

“Hi,” he says softly, cheeks flushing.

You gasp, lips curling into a pleased grin. “You’re so cute when you blush.”

He’s never felt so unmoored. The flush spreads as he tries to bear your focus.

“I thought it would be weirder. To see your face,” you say, running a thumb over his chapped lips, fingers stroking the scruff of his chin. “Your helmet has always been you, to me. I was afraid this would be like seeing a stranger. But it’s not. I know you. Ni kar’tayli darasuum.”

He whispers it back, pressing a kiss to your thumb before leaning against the wall.

Your brow furrows, and you fix him with an outraged glare.

“What?” he asks, and you almost get distracted by the way his eyes widen and mouth opens with bewilderment.

“You used to call me ner kar’ta.”

“I still do.”

“No, I mean, you started calling me your heart so long ago.”

“You weren’t ready. But I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t change that it was true.” He sees the sadness creeping in and cups your cheek. “It was worth the wait, ner kar’ta. Would you like your gift now?”

You know he’s trying to distract you, but it works anyway. “A gift? For what?”

“For our riduurok, silly girl.”

It’s your turn to flush, ears burning. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know I was going to have a husband to get a gift for.”

He shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. A smile you can see. It’s a world-shattering feeling.

He rifles around for a moment and then offers you something shiny and very familiar.

The pauldron is unpainted silver, the same as his, with a mudhorn on the front. It’s shaped a little differently, a little longer and narrower. A better fit for your shoulder.

You reach out and run your fingers over the signet.

“Din,” you choke through the tight grip of your throat. “But… I didn’t earn it yet.”

“But I did. We’re a clan of three, now. As my riduur, this is yours to bear.”

You almost start to sob, but the tears are held off by a sudden realization.

“Did everyone know we were getting married but me?”

He shrugs. “Guess so.”

Your indignant laugh breaks into another sob, tears finally falling free.

He wipes them away with his thumbs, the pauldron abandoned on the bed. “Hey, save those tears for later,” he murmurs.

It has the desired effect. Your eyes widen, and your hips grind against him just a fraction. “You know how most people celebrate a marriage?”

“We aren’t most people, cyar’ika. We’re Mandalorians.”

It’s still weird to hear yourself referred to as a Mandalorian. But it sinks under your skin and spreads euphoria through your veins. It feels right, like your whole life you’ve been following a starmap to this moment.

“Well, how do we celebrate a marriage then?”

He smirks. “We fuck.”

“Right now?” you ask, making a show of batting your lashes and delighting in the way his eyes darken and lips part. “Please, sir?”

You could always sense the change, before. The way the air shifted. But it was another thing entirely to watch him become the predator. There’s a glint in his eye, a curve to his lips that wracks you with shivers.

His hand slides up to wrap around your throat. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to get fucked by your riduur? Going to let me take what’s mine?”

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. Your heart is pounding, and from the way his smirk grows, you know he can feel it under the clench of his fingers. They twitch a little tighter, and you’re already feeling lightheaded.

He eases up after a moment, withdrawing his hand just to bring it across your face in a harsh slap. “Have you forgotten how to be my good girl? Answer me when I speak to you.”

When you open your mouth to try, all that comes out is a moan. He slaps you again, grabbing you roughly by the throat after and pulling you closer.

“Yes,” you finally gasp, “yes, please, sir.”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me. Please take what’s yours.”

“And what’s mine to take?”

“Everything.”

His lips press against yours in a crash of teeth and flesh. He bites his way into your mouth, pushing you down on your back with the force of his kiss. Your legs are still wrapped around his hips and his cock presses against your panties.

“Wait,” he gasps into your mouth. “I have another gift.”

“Can’t it wait? Can’t you let me get you something first?”

“No, cyare, this isn’t a present for my riduur.”

“No?” Your voice has gone small, soft.

“No, sweetheart. It’s for my pretty little slut.”

You flush, and he sits up, reaching over to the shelf for a box. Inside is a thin chain that almost looks like beskar.

You watch him watch you with starving eyes, a hunger that seeps into your skin where his gaze lands. “But I like my collar,” you whisper.

“I know, I do too. This is a little different. It’s thin enough to lay under your cowl without being seen.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to wear it all the time. But when you want to, when you’ll let me have you outside of this, I’d like you to.”

It goes against that rule, your one big rule, from so long ago. Nothing outside the ship could come back in, and vice versa.

You find it doesn’t bother you, now. Not if you can have that little reminder, not if you can feel his love physically all the time.

You know he’d never take advantage, never try to control you in a fight. He didn’t need to, anyway, not with the way you moved and worked as one.

“Yes, sir.”

😭thank you, thank you, thank you, I love you. see you on dec. 21 for the Life Day Special ft. our favorite clan of three.

*title from "Set Phasers to Stun" by Taking Back Sunday

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fic #din djarin x f!reader #mando x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #dom din djarin #make it hurt verse #din djarin fic

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sterekmpreg · 2 years ago

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I feel like Derek knocked Stiles up before he left for the FBI training.

I love when people ask me things!😩 Thank you!💕

Oh absolutely, but Derek made damn sure to claim Stiles as his before he left. They’d call daily and after about 2 months of being away Stiles starts complaining like, “idk why I’m so fucking light headed all the time”, “I swear to god this stomach bug has had to of been passed around more than Abi from criminology”, or “why am I so fucking bloated all the damn time!”

Of course Derek, having not much knowledge of mates or mating but the basics, doesn’t really understand either but he can fell the pull of Stiles discomfort through the bond after 3 months apart. So when Derek finally has enough free time lined up with Stiles and they planed on spending personal time together at Derek’s when Stiles flew back to Beacon Hills for the week, while only having one day of online assignments in the mix.

And so when Derek looks Stiles up and down at the airport with a funny look, Stiles pushes it off as Derek teasing him for being a pain in the ass about being sick. He doesn’t assume Derek is confused as to why he could hear a third heartbeat or why Stiles scent had gone sweet. Derek almost thinks he’s lost his mind.

But oh boy, Uncle Creeper Peter understands perfectly clear when the bonded pair walk through the Front doors of the Hales property. The elder wolf nearly chokes on his tea and stares wide at the couple. “I told you he was coming for the week, Peter. Don’t even start,” Derek warns with a roll of his eyes. Peter sets his tea down with a “mhm” and taps his fingers along the counter top. “While I am aware that your playmate was going to be here this week, I, for one; was not told you had begun multiplying with him.”

Derek and Stiles both cocked their heads to the side and looked strangely at the man in front of them. Peter throws his hands up with a wide smile and cheers out, “You’re starting the new generation of Hales! Congratulations, boys!” They both paled. Was that even possible? Because HELL if they knew!

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manamrazinaqvi · 3 months ago

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Deepest condolences on the Martrydom of Rasool Allah ﷺ

Amir al-Mu'minin Imam Ali ibn Abi Talibع said:

"When the Prophet ﷺ died his head was on my chest, and his [last] breath blew over my palms and I passed it over my face. I performed his [funeral] ablution, may Allah bless him and his descendants, and the angels helped me. The house and the courtyard were full of them. One party of them was descending and the other was ascending. My ears continually caught their humming voice, as they invoked Allah's blessing on him, till we buried him in his grave. Thus, who can have greater rights with him than I during his life or after his death?

Therefore depend on your intelligence and make your intentions pure in fighting your enemy, because I swear by Him who is such that there is no god but He, that I am on the path of truth and that they [the enemy] are on the misleading path of wrong. You hear what I say, and I seek Allah's forgiveness for myself and for you."

(Nahjul Balagha, Sermon 196)

#islam #muslim #shia #ahlulbayt #imam ali #mola ali #prophet #prophet muhammed pbuh

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 3 months ago

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Abraham Marries Keturah

1 Abraham took another wife, whose name was Ketu′rah. 2 She bore him Zimran, Jokshan, Medan, Mid′ian, Ishbak, and Shuah. 3 Jokshan was the father of Sheba and Dedan. The sons of Dedan were Asshu′rim, Letu′shim, and Le-um′mim. 4 The sons of Mid′ian were Ephah, Epher, Hanoch, Abi′da, and Elda′ah. All these were the children of Ketu′rah. 5 Abraham gave all he had to Isaac. 6 But to the sons of his concubines Abraham gave gifts, and while he was still living he sent them away from his son Isaac, eastward to the east country.

The Death of Abraham

7 These are the days of the years of Abraham’s life, a hundred and seventy-five years. 8 Abraham breathed his last and died in a good old age, an old man and full of years, and was gathered to his people. 9 Isaac and Ish′mael his sons buried him in the cave of Mach-pe′lah, in the field of Ephron the son of Zohar the Hittite, east of Mamre, 10 the field which Abraham purchased from the Hittites. There Abraham was buried, with Sarah his wife. 11 After the death of Abraham God blessed Isaac his son. And Isaac dwelt at Beer-la′hai-roi.

Ishmael’s Descendants

12 These are the descendants of Ish′mael, Abraham’s son, whom Hagar the Egyptian, Sarah’s maid, bore to Abraham. 13 These are the names of the sons of Ish′mael, named in the order of their birth: Neba′ioth, the first-born of Ish′mael; and Kedar, Adbeel, Mibsam, 14 Mishma, Dumah, Massa, 15 Hadad, Tema, Jetur, Naphish, and Ked′emah. 16 These are the sons of Ish′mael and these are their names, by their villages and by their encampments, twelve princes according to their tribes. 17 (These are the years of the life of Ish′mael, a hundred and thirty-seven years; he breathed his last and died, and was gathered to his kindred.) 18 They dwelt from Hav′ilah to Shur, which is opposite Egypt in the direction of Assyria; he settled over against all his people.

The Birth and Youth of Esau and Jacob

19 These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son: Abraham was the father of Isaac, 20 and Isaac was forty years old when he took to wife Rebekah, the daughter of Bethu′el the Aramean of Paddan-aram, the sister of Laban the Aramean. 21 And Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord granted his prayer, and Rebekah his wife conceived. 22 The children struggled together within her; and she said, “If it is thus, why do I live?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. 23 And the Lord said to her,

“Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples, born of you, shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger.”

24 When her days to be delivered were fulfilled, behold, there were twins in her womb. 25 The first came forth red, all his body like a hairy mantle; so they called his name Esau. 26 Afterward his brother came forth, and his hand had taken hold of Esau’s heel; so his name was called Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when she bore them.

27 When the boys grew up, Esau was a skilful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, dwelling in tents. 28 Isaac loved Esau, because he ate of his game; but Rebekah loved Jacob.

Esau Sells His Birthright

29 Once when Jacob was boiling pottage, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. 30 And Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red pottage, for I am famished!” (Therefore his name was called Edom.) 31 Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.” 32 Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to him, and sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and pottage of lentils, and he ate and drank, and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright. — Genesis 25 | Revised Standard Version (RSV) Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1946, 1952, and 1971 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. All rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 2:11; Genesis 10:15; Genesis 12:2,3 and 4; Genesis 15:15; Genesis 16:15-16; Genesis 17:20; Genesis 21:14; Genesis 22:23; Genesis 23:8; Genesis 24:35-36; Genesis 24:67; Genesis 26:1; Genesis 27:1; Genesis 27:3; Genesis 27:36; Genesis 32:3; Genesis 38:27; Deuteronomy 21:16-17; Judges 8:24; 1 Samuel 10:22; 2 Kings 4:38-39; 1 Chronicles 1:30; 1 Chronicles 1:32-33; 1 Chronicles 5:19; Isaiah 60:6; Matthew 1:2; Acts 7:8; Romans 9:10; Romans 9:12; Hebrews 11:9; Hebrews 12:16

Genesis 25 Bible Commentary - Matthew Henry (concise)

#Abraham #Abraham remarries #Keturah #death of Abraham #the descendants of Ishmael #Jacob #Esau #Esau sells his birthright #Genesis 25 #Book of Genesis #Old Testament #RSV #Revised Standard Version Bible #National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America

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cloudycaffeinatedcryptid · 11 months ago

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Let’s have Nick bullying hours! (Or just talk about him without bullying, but how could we possibly??) How do you think he ended up in this job, cooking at a camp in New York, all the way from Australia? What’s the weirdest shit he did over the summer? If we switched someone else out for him as the wolf bait, who should it be and what would he do in their place?

gods please, i love bullying this weirdo

so i do think a lot about how he got here & i have a minor hc that his parents have a pretty demanding job with cushy salaries & he moved in maybe middle school/early high school (bc he has NO clue how to talk to Humans, or maybe he was homeschooled). if Jacob misses the qte to catch his phone, Nick is immediately like "i'll pay for that, im so sorry". obviously he SHOULD, he broke it, why does he do this, but idk it just sticks with me. i would never risk someone else's property, ESP bc i could never afford to replace it if i fucked up. idk. Nick is fucking weird. anyway so i think his parents moved to New York for their job & he's breaking out of his shell, going to camp with other young adults his age

over camp, he's a fucking nightmare. at least ten kids are in on a bet that he's an alien. two others are convinced he's possessed. sometimes he just stands over whatever he's preparing for dinner, completely still, staring at the food without blinking. it doesn't even look like he's breathing. five minutes later, he's totally fine. he sings different words to the camp song every time & it's never the right ones. sometimes he eats raw onion when he's chopping it up. he's never tasted sweet potato. he also stores jars of marinara in the freezer. one counselors swears to god they saw him snap a twig in half between his teeth during a nature walk & another one says he ate a whole acorn

if we could wolf-swap someone, i do think it would be interesting to actually see infected!Abi. the conflict between her, Nick & Emma would've meant a lil more maybe if instead of getting pissy, whiny, aggressive Nick, we could get choices & steadily see Abi get more forceful about if he rlly likes her, asking Kaitlyn why she made that dare when she KNEW what would happen, starting to speak up for herself before it gets too far & she turns (& decapitates nick <3). maybe that's basic but both of those characters felt kind of wasted so :( swapies :) also i feel like Abi should've gotten an opportunity to grow more than just "nervous & unsure & hiding" beyond choosing to either shoot or die

in her place, Nick for sure wouldn't shoot, he's a bitch. (just kidding. kinda.) but honestly i don't even know what he would do. Abi doesn't get to do much but hiding the storm shelter doesn't seem like his thing either. if Emma's in the van, all four of them prolly go to the scrapyard together, which kind of changes the whole thing

#the cool thing is i can just say things & then believe them #sorry i didnt have anything funny for the last one :(#plz smg give me werewolf abi i want it #nick is such a little freak i wanna remove his head #to fix him :(#the quarry #ask moth

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downforthegas · 6 months ago

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I had some pretty uhhhh nasty WH dreams last night

Cw: Major fart talk lol

First one I had, I was looking at some really hot fart fetish art (there was big naked butts with brown clouds and that's all that mattered🥴🥴🥴). But one of them was sketches of Ju//lie having sex with Wa//lly while she's ripping ass. Like her and Wa//lly aren't really naked, and you can't see it, but you could tell they're were doing the nasty (really nasty hehe). I remember Ju//lie being a power bottom and looking at Wa//lly in a passionate way while farting. And Wa//lly looked like he was really enjoying getting farted on hehe (idk why, the idea of Wa//lly having a fart fetish has me feeling some type of way...)

The second one omg idk if I can look at How//dy (or any character) properly rn like I'm so ashamed I even had this dream. I remember the girl neighbors all farting together in the same room, their butts facing the camera (well, my pov). And then they guy neighbors were doing it, like they were having a big fart contest. They also had their pants down so everyone's butt was out and everyone, even Wa//lly and Fra//nk were farting like the were built like Ba//rn//aby 🥴🥴🥴🥴 and then we get to How//dy.

Now I know in the playfellowxxx community, most people have headcanoned How//dy having two dicks, but my brain came up with something so weird and wild and so hot and idk how no one else has thought of this. In my dream, How//dy had two asses (four butt cheeks, one connected to each leg) and three buttholes!!! Omfg and they were farting at three different lengths, pitches, and volumes (and I'm hoping different smells). And god those cheeks were so fat and green and fuzzy and, god, he was waving away the stink from his butts, and he even made a comment about those farts. "Gee, it's almost like these things have minds of their own!" And I swear Ba//rn was like "Hehe, you think that's bad, wait till you hear this." I sadly don't think I got to see Ba//rn fart in my dream.

but man it was wild. I had never had a WH fart dream before, but it was so hot, god I hope I have another one soon... hopefully with more of Wa//lly brapping... or even being into braps now that my brain brought it up

#eproctophilia #playfellowxxx #gassyfellowxxx

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vittoriaisfuckingpathetic · 7 months ago

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kissed, tear-stained red

rated E | read it on ao3 | 3.1k words

cw: dacryphilia, overstimulation, mommy kink, pwp

“John,” Abigail said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?” John, for his part, still had his face buried in his hands, unwilling to look at her. His cheeks were flushed pink and warm against his palms. “No. God, no, please. Just forget you heard anything,” he begged, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Abigail placed her palm atop of his, running her thumb over his knuckle. “I’m not mad,” she promised. Finally, that coaxed John into moving his hands, at least slightly. // John accidentally lets a secret fetish slip. Much to his surprise, Abigail is more than willing to indulge. Modern!Johnigail with completely shameless smut.

Things had been going great at the beginning of the evening. After going on a date to the cinema, Abigail and John had ended up back at her apartment. They quickly ended up in her bed, as was the usual with their dates. On Abigail’s end, everything was seemingly good. John was pliant beneath her, shirtless and practically whining into her mouth as she palmed him through his black jeans. Metaphorically and literally wrapped around her fingers.

But then, without warning, he had whimpered “Mommy,”

It was so quiet she wasn’t even sure if she’d heard it properly.

After the long-kept secret had tumbled from John’s mouth, Abigail had froze. Really, it was his nightmare scenario. The two now sat in an uncomfortable quietness, Abigail still on top of him, and to make matters worse, he was still semi-hard.

“John,” Abigail said softly after a few more moments of silence. Frankly, she was slightly worried — because for the last five months they’d been dating, she’d never seen her boyfriend so humiliated. “Do you want to talk about it?”

John, for his part, still had his face buried in his hands, unwilling to look at her. His cheeks were flushed pink and warm against his palms. “No. God, no, please. Just forget you heard anything,” he begged, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “I didn’t mean it. Okay— just, please don’t be upset,”

Abigail placed her palm atop of his, running her thumb over his knuckle. “I’m not mad,” she promised, meaning every word.

Finally, that coaxed John into moving his hands, at least slightly. “I…” How could she not be? He half expected her to run for the hills. Hell, he wouldn’t have even blamed her. “You sure?”

“Mhm,” Abigail replied. She briefly leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I swear it.” When she leaned back up, he could see the twinkle in her eyes.

John finally pried his hands off his face, placing them shyly at his sides. “You don’t think it’s…” he huffed, words never really being his strong suit, “I dunno, a little perverted?”

Abigail’s compassionate expression did not change. “No. Why would it be?”

“Well,” he started, accompanied by a humorless laugh. But he trailed off, because he didn’t quite have an answer.

“John,” she said his name gently, but firmly. It succeeded in gaining his attention. “I’m not upset by it, I promise. I wouldn’t dream of makin’ fun of you for something like that.”

If anything, Abigail saw this as something of an opportunity to open him up a little more. She wouldn’t have thought it when she had first met him or even when they first started dating, but sexually, John was quite reserved. It was like he was constantly holding his true desires back; that wasn’t to say it wasn’t enjoyable for her — it still was. John was eager to please. He was easily controlled, and keened for her praise. He fell into a submissive role so beautifully.

But there was something that he seemed to be holding back, almost as if he was too caught up in his own headspace.

“I know you wouldn’t make fun,” John murmured. “It’s just… God, Abi, it’s so embarrassing.” he was still avoiding eye contact with her.

She smiled encouragingly. “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me,” she replied, reaching to tangle her hair in his raven locks. He leaned into her touch with a shudder. “If you want to call me that, I’m more than okay with it.”

“...Okay, darlin’, okay.” He answered her quietly after a few moments, seemingly accepting of this. He grasped her free wrist and brought it to his lips, soft kisses meant only for her.

She tucked a flyaway hair behind his ear. “You’re still hard,” she pointed out, trying to keep her tone light. “Do you want to keep going? You won’t be disappointin’ me if you wanna stop.”

John sighed, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Color?” She prompted. It had been her idea to establish the stoplight system into their sexual encounters, after it had gotten a bit too intense one time.

His hazel eyes locked with hers of cool blue. “Green. I’m good, I’m good, I just… got caught up thinkin’.”

With that simple word of consent, she slipped back into a role of dominance effortlessly. She tilted her head. “Oh? Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Her tone made it sound like a suggestion, but there was an underlying power to her words. He knew it was an instruction.

His breath hitched. “I, well, I… was hoping you’d sit on my face, before all of this stuff happened.”

“Aw,” Abigail cooed, petting his hair, “Ain’t you sweet? But that’s not what I have planned for you right now.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” John quickly offered, her honeyed voice making him easily fall right into place.

Then, her grip tightened on his hair, and she tugged just enough to make him shiver. “I know you will,” She said ominously, leaving him hanging on her every word.

Luckily for him, she didn’t leave him waiting long. She pulled her tank top off over her head, tossing it somewhere unseen.

All she had to do was quirk an eyebrow and he was hurriedly taking his pants and underwear off. His pupils were blown, eyes tracking her every moment.

She reached between them, where his cock was standing at attention, hard and warm. She pumped her hand slowly, listening as he quietly gasped and grunted at the contact. He was flushed underneath her, pink down to nearly his chest.

She wanted to draw out this moment, capture the moment mentally. “You like this, don’t you?” She asked, although it wasn’t really a question.

“Yeah— yes, can you maybe go faster?”

Her lips were centimeters above his, never quite kissing him just to tease. “You want more?” She finally gave him a brief kiss, and he tried to follow her for more. “Beg me for it,”

If there was one thing Abigail loved to hear, it was him begging and pleading.

He swallowed hard, trying to piece together words in his arousal-ridden mind. “Please, please , I want… I need you so bad, please give me more?”

If there was something that Abigail seemingly couldn’t resist, it was him begging and pleading. “Good boy,” she praised, rewarding him with a faster pace.

Try as he might, his hips continued to stutter and jerk in time with her movements. He was so needy, and Abigail loved it so.

She could feel his pre soaking her hand, feeling herself get wetter as he whined and whimpered. “Close. I’m clo— Abi, you’re gonna make me—” his voice was higher than normal, strained as he practically fell apart in her hands.

“Say what I want to hear and maybe I’ll let you cum,” She commanded.

“Mommy,” He finally whined, his voice cracking slightly.

Abigail smiled to herself, pleased. “Yes, John?”

His hips yet again stuttered involuntarily. “Please, can I cum?” He was practically babbling now, so eager for it.

She hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. She gave one last swipe of her thumb across head of his cock, listening in amusement as he let out a garbled string of curses. “No, not yet. I think I should give your dick a little bit of a break, hm?” She reached to his lithe thigh and gave it a short squeeze.

John squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compose himself. “Fuck— I… yes, okay, whatever you want,”

“Tell you what,” Abigail slid off the bed and stood up, finally taking off her underwear. She did so slowly, making sure his focus was on her. “You’ve been so good for me. I think as a reward, I’ll sit on your face,” Well, it was also a reward for her, too, but framing it within the realm of praise always got John going.

“Thank you,” he breathed, eyes never leaving her body.

The look of adoration in his eyes was something she’d never get tired of.

Another thing she’d never get tired of was straddling his face.

If there was one thing John always eagerly participated in, it was eating her out. He knew exactly what to do, tongue never leaving her clit.

John had once described himself — rather smugly, she would add — as a ‘munch’, At the time, she’d rolled her eyes, only for him to live up to the description later that night.

As with most things he did, there was a certain unique grace he brought to the act. He truly loved it, and always tried to get her off as many times as possible. In fact, Abigail was certain that if she didn’t stop him, he’d keep going until his jaw fell off. She’d never known a man who enjoyed it as much as John.

She whimpered his name as he moved quickly with no signs of stopping. The slight scratch of his scruff on her inner thighs always stung so good. Her thighs would likely be pink come morning, but she loved it so. Taking it up a notch, she grinded against his face, her own legs quivering slightly.

That mouth of his could turn her into putty so easily. She tugged at his hair, knowing how much he liked it, but also as an encouragement for him. He moaned, tongue working in hurried motions.

She felt the coil in her stomach tighten. It was then that Abigail decided she’d rather cum with him inside her, so abruptly, she lifted off of his face.

John made a noise of confusion, staring at her with a dazed look in his eyes and lips still shining with her slick.

“I’d much rather cum with you inside me,” she explained, even though she knew she didn’t really owe him an explanation. He’d go along with whatever she wanted.

She moved to straddle his cock, but paused upon closer examination. “Color?” she checked.

He seemed to struggle to gather his thoughts, lust swimming in his eyes. “...Green. Please ride me?” He pawed at her thighs, but she batted him away. She reached in between them and grabbed his cock, pumping him a few times. He was already so sensitive, cock flushed, leaking pre, and aching.

“I think you can ask a little nicer than that, can’t you?” She asked, positioning his cock at her entrance.

He swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob. “Abi, please, please, ride me? I’ll be so fuckin’ good for you, I—”

She leaned in close, nose touching his. If he wasn’t smart, he’d lean in and kiss her, but he knew better.

“Still missing something, baby. What do you call me?” She straightened, staring him down.

“Mommy,” He corrected himself, voice cracking. “Please ride me, Mommy.”

That was all she needed to hear. “Good boy,” she praised, sinking down on him.

He let out some strangled curses, palms balling into fists. If he was allowed, she knew he’d have his hands on some part of her.

His thighs were tense as she finally rode him. He moaned words of nothingness as she went-up-and-down, hips following her movements.

“I wanna— I need—”

“Aw, you’re close already?” she taunted, feeling like a bit of a hypocrite nonetheless.

He nodded so fast she thought his neck would snap.

Abigail chose to ignore his whining for a few minutes, working them both to the edge. Every stroke brought him right against her g-spot, and she chased that feeling as quickly as possible.

He whimpered her name yet again, finally earning her attention.

Deciding to switch the pace, she grinded on him, kicking his oversensitivity into overdrive.

“Mommy,” he whined incredulously. There were tears brimming in his eyes.

“Speak up, John. I can hardly hear you,” she commanded, a taunt lacing her words.

“I— please, I need…” He was blinking rapidly, trying to keep his crying at bay.

Abigail cupped his cheeks, knowing how he could get when he was overwhelmed. She also knew his tears were indicative of overstimulation, and she’d end his suffering soon enough.

Still, it didn’t stop a small part of her from being spurred on by these tears. “Shh… it’s okay, baby, let it go.” she soothed.

John let out something between a choked gasp and a sob, mind overrun with pleasure.

A part of her felt guilty for letting his tears turn her on— for encouraging this, but he was just so beautiful when he cried for her.

She did slow down the pace a bit, letting him compose himself. She reached up one hand to pet his hair gently. “You’re okay, you’re okay. D’you wanna cum for me?”

He nodded, tears still running down his cheeks. “Please, Mommy,”

Abigail bit back a moan. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of hearing that come out of his mouth. “Alright, baby. We’ll come together, okay?” Technically, she was doing all the work, but she didn’t mind right now. She placed her right hand on his chest for balance and the left trailed down to grasp his left hand. He clutched it as tightly as he could, needing something to ground himself.

Abigail switched from grinding back to riding, working herself up-and-down on him with a pace that made her world spin, just a little.

His hands flew to her hips in an effort to ground himself. Normally, she’d discourage him from touching her without permission, but they were both so close that she couldn’t really be bothered to care.

He whined her name, canting his hips upward to meet her downward plunge, like he couldn’t bare to have any space between them. He could get so desperate and messy when he was close.

“I’m gonna—” she gasped. She didn’t finish her sentence, though — the next thing she knew, she took a swan dive over the edge. Her release triggered his, and he cried out as the pulse of her walls milked him for all he was worth.

She panted atop of him, sweaty and legs shaking a little.

“...Oh, John,” Abigail cooed after some moments of silence. “You did so well for me,” Abigail purred. He was still clinging to her as if he’d float away. Gently, she pried his hands off of her hips.

He made a wordless noise of complaint (and likely, oversensitivity) as she lifted herself off of him and swung her legs off the bed. “I’ll be right back,” she said gently. John did not reply, instead nodding silently. He looked like he was about to fall asleep.

She padded across the hallway into the bathroom. The sun had long set, bathing the apartment in relative darkness (aside from the light coming from her bedroom). When she flicked on the light, she was greeted with her own disheveled appearance, What was once a somewhat loose ponytail was mostly out of its scrunchie, aside from a few errant hairs still tied up. Her lipstick was messy and half-smeared off, going a little past the borders of her lips. Her entire body was shining with a light sheen of sweat.

She shook her head a little at herself and went back to her task of wetting a washcloth. She turned the tap on warm and got a cloth from underneath the sink, dampening the fabric some. After wringing it out in order to not let it drip, she made her way back to John.

Just as Abigail thought, John was seemingly half-asleep — and it seemed though he hadn’t moved, either. She approached him gently, armed with the washcloth.

She tucked a sweaty flyaway hair behind his ear, “Hey, there. You still with me?”

John’s eyes fluttered open. He hummed the affirmative.

Abigail started by gently wiping the tear tracks off of his cheeks, then moved a bit lower to his mouth, cleaning the slick and cum she had left. After that, she gave him a loving but quick kiss on the lips, one which he reciprocated gladly.

She continued on with her task quietly, cleaning up between his legs and finally hers. Then it was back to the bathroom to put the washcloth over the edge of the sink, zig-zag to the kitchen for two glasses of water, and back to the bedroom.

Abigail placed her glass on the nightstand, and handed him his. He accepted it wordlessly, downing it in a matter of moments.

Satisfied that he was doing fine, she got into bed behind him, correctly surmising that he’d want to be the little spoon. He scooted closer to her, and she wrapped her arms around his narrow waist.

Abigail swept John’s hair out of the way, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “John, sweetheart. Do you feel up to talking?” she asked after a few moments. There were a handful of times where, after a particularly intense scene, John would go quiet for quite a while. Either way, she was ready to offer him whatever he deemed necessary for aftercare.

He was silent for about a minute. “I guess so, yeah,” he answered quietly, his voice noticeably rougher than usual.

She hummed. “Tell me how you’re feeling. Do you need anything?”

“‘M okay,” he replied. “You just wore me out, ‘s all.” he added, making a little bit of smugness bloom in her chest.

She trailed kisses up his neck, leaving the last just below his earlobe, earning a little shiver out of him. “I know I already told you, but you did so well for me.”

John sighed, exhausted. He extricated himself from her grip, turning around to face her. “Thank you,” he replied. “For, y’know, everything. Even the… mommy stuff.” His cheeks reddened yet again.

She leaned in closer to give him a peck on the cheek. “Of course. I told you it doesn’t bother me. In fact, I like it.” To be more specific, she had fantasized about it before, but it had just been idle fantasy. She had no idea how much she’d enjoy it now that it had actually played out.

“You do?” He raised an eyebrow. There was a difference between tolerating something and actively enjoying it.

Abigail giggled. “‘Course I do, you silly man. I wouldn’t be encouraging you to call me that if I was only putting up with it,”

John exhaled, relieved. “God, Abi. Has anyone ever told you that you’re like, kinda perfect?”

This man of hers. It was such a perfectly John compliment. “I think you might be a little biased, but I’ll take it.” This time, when their lips met, it was for a proper, long kiss. Somehow, this lead to her ending up in his arms. He clung to her like she’d fade away if he let go.

“Love you,” he murmured against her temple. Words meant only for her.

It was difficult for the both of them to say it sometimes, but with John, it was almost as if Abigail had no hesitancy in it. “I love you, too, John.”

#im not kidding this is literal pwp + some aftercare. idk it gets pretty soft at the end #john marston #abigail roberts marston #rdr fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction #rdr fanfiction #john marston x abigail roberts #johnigail #marstongail #vittoria.doc

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ahlulbaytnetworks · 3 months ago

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🍂🥀🍂 Lady Fatimah al-Zahra (sa) After the Prophet’s (S) Martyrdom:

ما زالت بعد أبيها معصبة الرأس باكية العين، محترقة القلب

“After the death of the Prophet (S), she continually wore the scarf of mourning on her head, possessing crying eyes and a burning heart.”1

The sweet period of the Lady of Islam's life quickly came to an end with the death of the Holy Prophet of Islam (even though throughout her lifetime there was no real sweet period, because there were the constant pressures, wars, and plots of the enemies against Islam and the Prophet of Islam (S), taking away her spiritual peace).

With the death of the prophet, new storms of complicated critical events blew up.

The hatred and grudges of Badr, khaibar and Honain that were during the prophet’s time hidden beneath the ashes became visible.

The sects of the “Hypocrites” went to action to take their revenge of Islam and also from the Prophet’s family. Fatimah Zahra (s.a.) was in the center of this circle, of which the poisonous arrows of the enemy flew at her from every direction

Her separation from her father; the sad, tormenting innocence of her husband Ali (a.s.); the plots of the enemy against Islam, and the worry of Fatimah (s.a.) for the future of the Muslims and the Quranic heritage, all joined together, severely straining her pure heart.

Fatimah (s.a.) doesn’t wish to cause Ali (commander of the Faithful) greater grief by relating to him her sadness, because he had already received a severe blow by these unpleasant circumstances and misdeeds created by the people.

For this very reason she would go to the grave of the Prophet (S) and tell him of her grief. And she speaks heart - rendering words that burn our inner soul just like burning embers:

يا أبتاه بقيت و الهةً و حيرانةً فريدة، قد انخمد صوتي و انقطع ظهري و تنغص عيشي

“Father dear, after you, I feel lonely. I have remained perplexed and deprived, my mouth is inclined to silence, and my back is broken, and the wholesome water of life has become bitter to my taste.” 2

And, sometimes she would say:

قُل للمُغيّبِ تَحتَ أطباقِ الثّرى ** انْ كُنتَ تَسمَعُ صَرخَتي وَ نِدائيا

صُبّتْ عَليَّ مَصائِبٌ لَوْ أنَّها ** صُبّتْ عَلى الايَّامِ صِرنَ لَيَالِيا

“The person who smells the pure soil of the grave of Prophet (S), it is only fair that until the end of his life he should smell no other perfume. After you, O’ father, so much suffering has fallen upon me that, if they were to fall upon bright Jays, they would turn into dark, gloomy nights.”

Why does Fatimah (s.a.) shed tears in this way?

Why is she so restless?

Why is she as wild rue on fire, without stability?

Why?!

The answer to these whys must be heard from her own words.

Umm Salamah says:

“When I went to see the Lady of Islam Fatimah (s.a.) after the death of the prophet, and asked her how she was, in reply these meaningful sentences were spoken by her:

أصبحت بين كمد و كرب

فقد النبىِّ و ظلم الوصي

هُتكَ و الله حجابه...

ولكنها أحقاد بدرية

وثارات أحدية

كانت عليها قلوب النفاق مكتمنة

“Why are you asking me how I am Umm Salamah, when I am caught in the middle of much sadness and suffering? On the one hand I have lost my father, the Prophet (S) and on the other hand (I see with my own eyes that) there has been injustice done to his successor, (Ali ibn Abi Talib).

I swear to God that they have torn the curtain of his inviolability (reverence).

But I know that these are the grudges of Badr and the revenges of Uhud, that were hidden in the hearts of the hypocrites (non-believers).”3

All of her defences of the boundaries of the holiness of everything noble and her support of Ali (s.a.) right during this time of pain and suffering are not hidden from anyone. Even though her life after the Prophet of Islam was as brief as she had begged God to be, being not more than two or three months before she rushed to the Holy Presence of God and met her father. However, in this Period of time she didn’t omit any self-sacrificing, generous effort in Ali’s right or for the defence of Islam.

“Peace be upon you, O’ daughter of the Messenger of God.”

🍂🥀🍂 Source 🍂🥀🍂

1. المناقب، ج3، ص362 “Al Manaqeb”, vol. 3 pg. 362

2. “المناقب، ج3، ص362 “Al-Manaqeb” vol.3 pg. 362

3. مناقب ابن شهر آشوب، ج2، ص225 “Manaqeb Ibn Shahr Ashoob”; vol. 2 pg. 225

🍂🥀🍂 al-Islam.org 🍂🥀🍂

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tearsincoffe · 1 year ago

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Zaniedbując Ane ciągle słyszałam od jednej znajomej negatywne inspo. Dosłownie nazwała mnie wielorybem aby za trzydzieści minut przynieść mi obiad z wielkim uśmiechem. Jeszcze była zdziwiona czemu nie jem XDD. Teraz gdy chciałam od niej dostać kubeł zimnej wody powiedziała "ale Ty jesteś szczuplutka" 💀 I swear to God za tą zakłamaną "szczuplutką" nienawidzę jej jeszcze bardziej.

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wolfawaycamp · 6 months ago

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Overstimulated introverts Ryan and Abi finally getting some peace and quiet during camp. Can be platonic or romantic, no preference- just spreading the Abiryan agenda <3

Ryan’s sitting on the grass in the shade below and to the side of the lodge’s porch stairs when the girls step outside. He’s got a sketchbook propped open on his lap and an earbud stuck in one ear, set on a volume that’s much lower than his default in the name of hearing a camper or any other staff member approaching who doesn’t already know he’s retained custody of his phone, unlike all the rest of the counselors; even so, the bass is successful at drowning out the incessant chatter of a thousand bugs screaming as the sun began to set on a warm July evening.

It’s precisely that low volume that allows him to hear the voices approaching; one high and loud and theatrical in such a way that means it can only possibly belong to Emma. That fact means that it’s also practically a no-brainer that the second voice — similarly high in pitch, but much softer and quieter in volume — is Abi, even if he hadn’t had the familiarity to place it immediately.

Discreetly, he slips the earbud out of place and tucks it out of sight under the collar of his topmost shirt where no one will be able to see it. It’s not that he intends on eavesdropping or anything; moreso just the fact that Emma, out of all the possible options, would certainly not keep her mouth shut if she saw him with contraband devices. And while he’s reasonably certain that his shady retreat is still out of sight, he also knows Emma well enough by now to be familiar with her freakish talent for picking up on things she shouldn’t actually know about… like where Ryan’s gone to be left alone, or who likes who, or where to sit to perfectly avoid getting caught in the crossfire of Dylan and Jacob’s prank battle. (Ryan certainly doesn’t share that innate gift; it’s been three weeks and sometimes he still spots little specks of craft glitter washing out of his hair in the shower.)

Thankfully his assumption of going unseen is correct, for he goes unnoticed for a good ten minutes in the shadows of the stairs while the girls chatter on above him, which he’s perfectly happy to try his absolute best to tune out even without the aid of his music. Even so, he’s aware enough of the conversation going on above that he notices when there’s a sharp decrease in the noise level.

Curious, his head cocks a little to the side as he listens a tiny bit more intently as footsteps cross the porch, before the sound of the lodge doors admitting someone back inside. Then, more closely than before — right at the porch railing just above his spot — there’s a weary sigh.

“Finally,” Abi huffs.

There’s so much unexpected ire in her voice that it punches a loud snort out of him, completely unbidden, and even ducking his head does nothing to prevent being discovered. Abi jolts a little on the porch with the tiniest of gasps, head whipping down at break-neck speed to stare down at Ryan with comically large eyes.

“Oh my god!” she squeaks. “Ryan! I- I didn’t mean that like—”

The girl stops short, seemingly lost for words, but her eyes are cutting rapidly back and forth between his seated position and the doorway Emma just disappeared through. He doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know what she’s thinking: holy shit holy shit please don’t tell Emma I said that she’ll be so hurt—

Plus or minus the swears, maybe. But then again: who really knew what Abi’s internal voice sounded like?

“It’s fine, Abi,” he tries to reassure, but she’s still too flustered.

“I— I just meant— it’s been so loud all day today and I just wanted some peace and quiet for once and she just wouldn’t stop going on and on about how Jacob did this and Jacob did that—”

“Abi,” he cuts in, earning another wide-eyed stare as she halts abruptly. “Really, it’s fine, I get it. Why do you think I’m sitting down here?”

It’s this point that finally seems to knock her out of the instinctual panic response at being caught expressing a less-than-strictly-positive thought about another person, and a friend and coworker at that. The girl wavers for a few moments, waffling in indecision and chewing her lip anxiously before she finally seems to make a decision, one that sees her descending the stairs until she’s in the open bit of shade just to the side of Ryan.

“Do you… mind if I crash your hiding spot?”

He glances up from his sketchbook. Abi’s cautiously pulling one of her own as well as a set of multicolored pencils out of the satchel on her shoulder, still eyeing him a bit worriedly.

“Go for it,” he offers, nodding to the empty space.

She takes the offer. And finally, finally, after ten peaceful minutes of sketching with no words exchanged, the tension in her body seems to drain away completely. The two of them are sat there for hours, just barely touching shoulder to shoulder in companionable silence outside of the gentle scratching of their pencils and the dull chatter filtering through lodge windows that somebody opened for fresh air, until some point late in the evening when Nick comes looking for the pair of them with the last two brownies he had saved from the ravenous masses in the dining hall.

🐦‍⬛

Hope you like!! Thanks for the request <3

#the quarry #ryan erzahler #abigail blyg #abiryan #precanon #crowe

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khaleesiofalicante · 9 months ago

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Me: Oh thank God exams are over, nothing is worse than that, let's read LBAF

LBAF: ✨️Pain✨️ aka: bitch you hope you still had exams (and I do)

Dani I love you but what on earth was that? And it kept getting worse? Like I had notes about one chapter and reading the next made everything worse? And after reading last night's chapter I want to talk about nothing but my sweet little sunshine snake boy?? Oh Arthur my Arthur you will be missed☀️🐍(until Dani brings you back because if he doesn't come back I will sue).

So, putting everything else on hold for my AJ, like he deserves: I read this book a few years ago, where the day two twins were born, a prophecy was created that the pure one would fall because of the other and because the one was more beautiful they assumed she was the doomed one. So they treated her perfectly and the other one like trash because they thought they knew who they would lose in the end. Of course it turns out they were wrong and all those years they were worried about losing the wrong kid. And I swear when I read it I was so shocked and I thought well next time I'll recognize that plot. Hat's off to you, I didn't recognise it!

I mean, it passed my mind a few times but not like this.Definately not. Caught between Kincaid and Lance perhaps and getting injured, but Lucifer stabbing Arthur to trigger the prophecy was not in my bingo card. Because the two big questions we had and kept getting asked is now answered. Lance can blame Kincaid for losing precious time with Arthur and Kincaid can blame Lance for not protecting Arthur or Arthur dying just for Lance to destroy. Point is, they have solid reasons to hurt one another. What the hell??

But also, so many questions: The different dimensions Arthur saw : first IALS( love that IALS Arthur saw nothing wrong with Jaden/David relationship but LBAF Arthur saw David not melting into Max and went yep that's not dad) then TLND, what was the third one? FMF? Also, the dreams of David and Max crying, was that after his death? He never once mentions what he does in those dreams is it because he is not in them? What about the boy crying? At first, I thought it was David with Albert but you said he can only see the future, is it someone from the future? OH! It could be Arthur himself because he doesn't die he goes somewhere else like David and Rafael (I'm wearing my pink glasses, denial is running through me)

Aslo were there just dreams about the future in the LBAF universe or from other univeries too? Are Arthur's abilities what helped Other Max crack time travel? Is Other Max walking in other dimensions like Arthur or just knows about them because of warlock math?

Honorable mentions

Let's not forget Azazel's looking for powerful blood from eldest curses while Max is selling his blood

To all Hermes supporters: Let's not forget how many times it's been hinted that the Clave trials don't hold a candle to the warlock ones and if Max/Other Max goes to trial Hermes will give out the sentence. I'm sorry but if I have to pick one morally gret warlock to thirst after support I'm picking Max.

Aby putting Madeleine in her place- making Izzy proud and Antoine horny I bet (we readers are a combination of the two I think- I know I was).

That's all I can think without crying. I declare this day the international Love Arthur Jackson Lightwood-Bane day. ☀️💛

PS: Not Lance's last memories of Arthur being him yelling at his brother, Max's being mad at his son and Kincaid's being letting Arthur down and breaking his promise. Bad, this is all BAD.

HELLOOOOOOO.

Congrats on finishing your exams! 💛 Proud of you for making it through and then bingeing all these chapters (how did you do that anyway omg)

That book you mentioned was so fucked up. LIKE THEY MADE THAT DECISION BASED ON HOW THE KIDS LOOKED? I-OKAY THEN.

Let me try to answer SOME questions.

The third dream/vision he saw was Lance and Arthur's room in the Other timeline. I think Other Max mentions somewhere that they lived in a small apartment (after they moved out of the institute) and Lance and Arthur shared a room.

If Arthur doesn't mean what he is doing in a dream, it's most definitely because he isn't there. Most of the time, his dreams are about other people, not himself.

The boy under the bed is not Arthur.

Other Max's abilities/knowledge is no way connected to Arthur's abilities.

Okay, that is all for now. Hope you get some rest because you deserve it after all the hard work!!!! LOVE YOU.

#lbaf

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bejxweled · 1 year ago

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"Hi," Harry started as his son walked inside. "The girls are outside. Well, Ava is," he corrected, because Poppy was sniffling and teary-eyed in his arms and there were currently two spider-child hybrids sitting on his couch. Rolling his eyes, Harry looked back at his son. "That small one over there is yours." He was about to say something else, but Ilsa appeared at the door and started screaming when she saw them, again, which made Poppy start crying, also again. "Ilsa, I swear to God, I told you to stay outside." Abi was at least smart enough to start changing back the moment she saw Jasper, but Iris stayed put. Harry gave her a look and carried Poppy, while all but pushing Ilsa, out. A little while later, they'd finally got the girls settled. The girls were outside playing again like nothing happened. Save for Iris, who he sent off with his father-in-law. "They make you guys seem easy sometimes," he teased, handing Jasper one of the two drinks he was holding. Harry's gaze fell over to Ava. He watched her for a quiet moment, before saying, "You gonna tell me what's actually going on?" He turned his attention back to Jasper. "Don't say you're fine. I'm not even going to humor that."

#harry chats.#harry & jasper.#harry present.

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queenofbaws · 1 year ago

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I do seem to recall you hinting for a prompt of this nature earlier this week, so consider this your excuse to write six-sentences of Josh 'assissting' Abi and/or Emma in their camp roles 💖

It was luck and luck alone that kept her from launching the armful of crayon boxes into the air as she stepped into the art cabin and found the, the...thing on the main chalkboard staring back at her.

"Holy mo - what is that?!" Abi gasped, overcompensating in her shock by hugging the crayons closer to her chest, squeezing them tightly enough that one of the flimsy cardboard boxes began to warp.

Josh didn't turn towards her; he reached an arm up, his hands both ghostly pale from blending chalk in as shading, and used the crook of his elbow to wipe a bead of sweat from his temple before going back to his work. "Whaddya mean what is it...you said it yourself, Abs, today's self-portrait day, don't act like you don't know my ugly mug when you see it."

"That..." she started, setting the crayons down onto one of the nearby tables with shaking arms, worried that if she broke eye contact with the ghoulish eyes peering through her soul she might very literally drop dead of a curse, "...that is not you, Josh, I'm sorry."

"It's me as a flyblown corpse found at the bottom of an abandoned mineshaft - it's called artistic license," he explained, using the same tone of voice she herself took on when telling the campers squares and rectangles were not, in fact, the same shape; he lowered his voice a second later, though, tempering it with what might've actually been affront as he muttered, "Everyone's a critic these days, swear to God..."

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

#love-fireflysong #six sentence weekend #queenie writes supermassive #heheheHEHEHEHE man i gotta come up with a tag for this au in particular.....HMMMMM something to think on

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loverandservantoftheahlulbayt · 2 years ago

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🍃🕊🍃 The Holy Prophet (S) Sayings about Imam Ali (as)

It was not only at Ghadir Khumm that the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, proclaimed 'Ali, peace be upon him, to be the leader of the Muslims and his successor, officially and in the presence of the people. In the third year of his mission, when he was commanded to proclaim his prophethood openly, he appointed 'Ali, peace be upon him, as his successor. It is known that for the first three years of his prophetic mission, the Most Noble Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, did not make his summons public, instead calling people to Islam in secret. It was in the third year of his mission that he was instructed to invite his relatives to Islam openly. [1]

He thereupon instructed 'Ali, peace be upon him, to invite forty of the leading personages of Quraysh to a banquet, and forty of the Prophet's relatives accepted.

At their very first session, the nonsensical ravings of Abu Lahab, his raging anger and unbridled arrogance, caused the meeting to break up in confusion. The following day, when again everyone was gathered in accordance with the instructions of the Most Noble Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, first food was served to the guests, and then it was time for spiritual nourishment. The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, stood up among his relatives, praised and supplicated the Creator, and said:

"I swear that there is none worthy of worship other than the One God, and that I am His envoy to you and the entirety of mankind. I have brought you the means of felicity in both worlds. My Lord has commanded me to summon you to the religion of Islam, and I give you glad tidings that whoever among you accepts my summons the soonest and aids me in my mission will be my brother (akhi), my legatee (wasiyyi) and my successor (khalifati)."

Those words greatly disturbed those present at the gathering, for their pride was offended, and it almost seemed that the voice of truth and the summons of prophethood would remain unheeded. Suddenly 'Ali b. Abi Talib, peace be upon him, arose and cried out: "O Muhammad, I believe in the oneness of God and your messengerhood and I distance myself from the idol worshippers."

The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, ordered 'Ali, peace be upon him, to sit down. He then repeated twice more his earlier proclamation, but those words of truth made no impact on the hearts of those gathered in that assembly. No one apart from 'Ali, peace be upon him, responded to the call of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family. ''Ali's acceptance of that summons and his declaration of agreement with the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, came at a time when he was just entering manhood. While everyone else sat voiceless and silent, he arose courageously and affirmed his acceptance of the Prophet's call a second time. Thereupon the Prophet turned to the assembly and said:

"'Ali is my brother and legatee and my successor among you. Obey him, follow him, and pay heed to his words." [2]

The reaction of the assembled guests was extremely hostile, for they wished to strip this declaration by the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, of its effect, and they therefore stood up and quit the meeting in the most unworthy and discourteous fashion. This event constitutes one of the plainest and most significant chapters in history, and none of the well known historians has ever seen fit to deny its occurrence, Not even the most narrow-minded among them have been able to excise this historic occurrence from their writings.

At that delicate and dangerous juncture, when the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, found himself alone in pursuing his great and glorious goal, he needed a helper and ally capable of supporting him powerfully and historically. Such a person could only be one who was prepared to devote himself fully to the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, and who had attained the highest degree of sincerity, courage, and obedience to God, so that once he came to exercise the office of successor, he would be a mirror reflecting all the knowledge, wisdom and moral purity of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family.

The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, knew that although some of his relatives might accept his call and come to embrace Islam, none among them would be prepared to commit himself to active collaboration or to confront the various forces arrayed against him, the idolators of Arabia and the People of the Book. Such a commitment would necessarily involve a protracted and merciless struggle against all sectors of Arab society, for none of them was prepared to tolerate the summons to change their beliefs and abandon their idols. The suggestion that they should do so could not fall to arouse their intense hostility, so that a conflict was completely inevitable, a conflict that would lead to the destruction of the possessions of anyone who allied himself with the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family.

Someone who was ready to make himself a protective shield for the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, under those unfavorable conditions and even to risk him own life had to be an extraordinary individual. Without doubt there was none among the relatives of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, who possessed the necessary qualities apart from 'Ali, peace be upon him, who was indeed destined to demonstrate in the bitter and punishing events that were to occur extraordinary and even unique qualities of heroism and devotion.

The significance of the proclamation made by the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, on that day is thus clear. It permits us to understand why he undertook to name as his successor and legatee the one and only person who promised him full collaboration.

Taking into consideration the Qur'anic verse, "The Prophet says nothing out of mere fancy, and whatever he utters is the fruit of revelation from his Lord,"(53:3-4) we must conclude that on that very day, during the earliest part of his mission the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, clearly and unmistakably appointed 'Ali, peace be upon him, to be leader and guide of the people after his death.

The traditions in which this occurrence is recorded furthermore indicate that the question of succession was the direct prerogative of God and the Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, and that the people cannot resolve so momentous a matter in accordance with their own wishes. Indeed, the question was of such significance that the Imamate was proclaimed together with prophethood on one and the same occasion, in a gathering attended by the foremost relatives of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family.

Ibn Hisham, the well known historian, writes:

"'Ali b. Abi Talib was the first man to believe in the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, to pray together with him, and to affirm the veracity of that which God gave him, although on that day he was a ten year old child." [3]

Anas b. Malik remarks: "The Prophet began his mission on Monday, and 'Ali embraced Islam on Tuesday." [4]

Ibn Majah in his al-Sunan and al-Hakim in his al-Mustadrak record 'Ali, peace be upon him, to have said:

"I am the servant of God and the brother of His Messenger. I am the supremely veracious one, and none but a liar shall say the same after me. I made the prayer seven years before anyone else did." [5]

The Most Noble Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, emphasized on various occasions that the question of leadership of the ummah pertained to God alone, and that he played no role in this respect.

al-Tabari records the following in his history:

"A tribal chief by the name of al-Akhnas made his allegiance and obedience to the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, conditional on the leadership of the ummah being assigned to him after the death of the Prophet The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, responded: 'This is a matter that belongs to God; He will appoint to this office whomever He deems fit' The chief in question was disappointed and he sent a message to the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, saying that it was unacceptable that he should toil and exert himself only to see the leadership go elsewhere." [6]

Can it then be permissible to prefer a leader chosen by the people to the one selected by God and His Messenger, or to place that lofty personage under the authority of someone else, obliging him to obey him and follow his command? The Qur'an clearly proclaims: "None has free choice when confronted with the command of God and His Messenger. Whosoever disobeys the command of God and His Messenger falls prey to obvious misguidance." (33:34)

When, therefore, God selects a certain person to be the guide and leader of the people, that person is the caliph." even if the Muslim community does not make it possible for him to exercise governmental authority. It is the same as in., the case of prophethood: if God appoints a person as prophet, that person is a prophet, even if people do not believe in him and refuse to obey him.

Another precious utterance in which the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, emphasizes to the Islamic ummah that 'Ali, peace be upon him, is their leader and ruler is the hadith known as the "hadith of the Rank" (hadith al-manzilah). The circumstances under which it arose are the following:

One day the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, learned that the armies of Byzantium were mobilizing for an attack on Madinah in the hope of gaining a swift victory. Upon hearing this, he ordered precautions to be taken and with a single order he was able to assemble a large force of Muslims to confront the enemy.

At the same time, a report reached the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, that the Hypocrites were also gathering their forces with the aim of causing disorder in the city during the anticipated absence of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, by killing and inciting people to violence.

The Most Noble Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, appointed 'Ali, peace be upon him, to guard the city on his behalf, and he ordered that he should remain in Madinah until he returned, administering the affairs of the Muslims. When the Hypocrites realized that their treacherous plans had been divulged, they began spreading idle rumors in the hope of weakening 'Ali's position. They hinted that the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, was angry with 'Ali, peace be upon him, and that it was for this reason that he had not been permitted to accompany him on a major military expedition.

'Ali, peace be upon him, was greatly troubled and saddened by the circulation of these rumors, and he hastened to the presence of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, who had already left Madinah. He told him what had happened, and with a single historic sentence he clarified the special position of 'Ali, peace be upon him, once and for all:

"Are you not content that your relation to me shall be like the relation of Harun to Musa, excepting only that there shall be no prophet after me?"

At the end of this hadith there is a sentence that many Sunni scholars have recorded in their books:

"It is not fitting that I should depart without your being my deputy and successor." [7]

Sa'd b. Abi Waqqas, who was an obstinate enemy of 'Ali peace be upon him, mentions the same hadith in order to demonstrate his high standing.

When Mu'awiyah wanted to have the people of Makkah swear allegiance to Yazid, he convened an assembly of some of the Companions at the place known as al-Nadwah. He began by condemning and criticizing 'Ali, peace be upon him, expecting Sa'd to agree with him at least on this point. But contrary to his expectations, Sa'd turned to Mu'awiyah and said: "Whenever I recall three luminous moments in the life of 'Ali, peace be upon him, I wish from the bottom of my heart that they had been mine. The first of the three came on that day when the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, said to 'Ali, peace be upon him, 'Your relation to me shall be like the relation of Harun to Musa, excepting only that there shall be no prophet after me.'

"The second came on the plain of Khaybar when the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, said: 'Tomorrow I will entrust the banner to one who loves God and His Prophet and whom God and His Prophet love. He will be the conqueror of Khaybar, for he never turns his back on the enemy.'

"The third was on the day when the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, disputed with the Christians of Najran. He gathered 'Ali, Fatimah, Hasan and Husayn, peace be upon them all, around him, and presented them to the divine presence, saying, 'O Lord, these are the people of my house.'" [8]

In the hadith comparing his relation with 'Ali to that of Musa (Moses) with Harun (Aaron), the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, had implicitly designated 'Ali as his brother, assistant and general deputy as well as leader of the ummah, and the fact that he excepted only prophethood indicates the comprehensive nature of the station he awarded to 'Ali, peace be upon him.

If we refer to the Qur'an, we will see that God Almighty granted all the requests Musa made on him, and it was in accordance with one such request that He appointed Harun the helper, assistant, deputy and successor of Musa among his people, and even made him a prophet. [9]Since Harun was the leader of all the Bani Isra'il, the situation of 'Ali, peace be upon him, was analogous. Just like the Most Noble Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, he was the ruler of all the Muslims, and his acting on his behalf as his deputy when he was not present was therefore entirely natural, a consequence of his comprehensive deputyship. Likewise, the deputyship exercized by Harun when Musa went to the place of assignation was not temporary in nature.

Someone might be of the view that 'Ali's deputyship was restricted to the period that the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, was absent from Madinah, so that the hadith under discussion cannot be taken as having general significance or as evidence that he was the Prophet's successor.

To this we answer that whenever the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, left the Islamic capital, he would always appoint someone to act as his deputy. If by comparing 'Ali, peace be upon him, to Harun, the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, had intended nothing more than the usual appointment of a deputy, restricted in his authority to Madinah for the period of the Prophet's absence, why did he not use a similar expression for those other favored Companions he would appoint as deputy? Why did he not use the same or similar words to describe the services they rendered?

History provides no evidence that the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, uttered these words with respect to anyone but 'Ali, peace be upon him. The simple truth of the matter is that the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, made use of the occasion to proclaim the virtues of 'Ali, to appoint him as his successor, and to make plain that he was his sole legatee. If the Prophet had intended to appoint him only as his deputy for a limited time, it would have made no sense for prophethood to be excluded from the prerogatives of his office. The meaning then would have been something improbable like the following: "'Ali, stand ill as my deputy for a while until I return, but you will not be a prophet after me." The exception made of prophethood makes sense only if the various powers and attributes of Harun should continue to pertain to 'Ali after the death of the Prophet.

Moreover, this expression was used by the Prophet in appointing 'Ali as his successor on other occasions as well, not simply when assigning him deputyship in Madinah, as history bears witness. For example, in the earliest days of the Hijrah, when the Prophet caused every Muslim to conclude a pact of brotherhood with another Muslim, 'Ali hastened sorrowfully to the presence of the Prophet and said: "How is it that you have assigned every Muslim a brother, but have not chosen anyone to be my brother?" In the presence of a group of Companions, the Prophet then replied: "I swear by the Lord Who sent me with the message of truth, I delayed the matter only in order to make you my brother. You are to me as Harun was to Musa, excepting only that there shall be no prophet after me. You are my heir and my brother. " [10]

This hadith demonstrates among other things that the barring of 'Ali from prophethood was not because of any unfitness on his part, but only to the fact that Muhnammad, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, was the Seal of the Prophets. Had prophethood not been sealed with him, 'Ali would doubtless have been a prophet.

The Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, called 'Ali, peace be upon him, his brother on a number of occasions.

Thus we read in the Sirah of al-Halabi:

"After the Prophet concluded pacts of brotherhood among the Companions (for example between Abu Bakr and 'Umar, Usayd b. Hudayr and Zayd b. al-Harithah, Abd al-Rahman bn 'Awf and Sa'd b. al-Rabi', and Abu 'Ubaydah and Sa'd b. Mu'adh), he took 'Ali by the hand and proclaimed, 'This is my brother.' Thereafter 'Ali and the Messenger of God were brothers." [11]

On another occasion, when discussing a matter that concerned 'Ali, his brother Ja'far, and Zayd b. al-Harithah, the Prophet addressed ''Ali as follows: "As for you, O 'Ali, you are my brother and comrade." [12]

On yet another occasion he said: "You will be my brother and companion in Paradise." [13]

Let us now see what is meant by brotherhood in this context.

In order to abolish and obliterate all forms of tribal distinction and privilege which were contrary to the norms of divine justice, the Prophet undertook a number of necessary measures, above all by establishing a special type of brotherhood among the Muslims after the migration to Madinah. It was his wish to bring a comprehensive brotherhood into being in the Islamic ummah, not as an abstract idea but as a palpable and objective reality. By the coming together of two adoptive brothers, who were not linked by any ties of blood or kinship but only by closeness to God and belief in the truths of His religion, the new brotherhood of Islam began to blossom in a practical form. Spiritual brotherhood became the equivalent of genealogical kinship. The links between two adoptive brothers, each hailing from a different tribe and town, contributed moreover to a general expansion of friendship and affection between all the members of the two different tribes, so that a network of deep spiritual and emotional links came into being.

The brotherhood of the Most Noble Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, and 'Ali, peace be upon him, had come into being no less than ten years before the Hijrah, when the Prophet convened a gathering of his relatives at his house in order to request their aid. The Prophet's purpose in establishing this fraternal link with 'Ali was without any doubt different from the goal of creating closeness between two tribes or the people of two cities that he pursued in Madinah, not least because no such gap or difference separated him from 'Ali. They were already related to each other as cousins and firm, strong ties already existed between them.

The reason for the brotherhood between the Prophet and 'Ali must therefore have been spiritual and intellectual affinity, a mutual inward attraction. It was 'Ali who more than anyone else resembled the great founder of Islam with respect to his spiritual qualities and knowledge, his devotion and insight. The brotherhood of the Prophet with 'Ali had therefore a special significance that extended beyond this world to the plain of resurrection and the realm of the hereafter. Thus al-Hakim records in his al-Mustadrak the following remark addressed to 'Ali by the Messenger of God, handed down by two separate authentic chains of transmission: "You are my brother in this world and the hereafter." [14]

One day when Abu Bakr, 'Umar and Abu 'Ubaydah were present, the Prophet placed his hand on the shoulder of 'Ali and said: "O 'Ali, you are the first person who accepted Islam and believed in me; you are to me as Harun was to Musa." [15]

Once 'Umar saw a man insulting 'Ali b. Abi Talib. 'Umar told him: "You are a hypocrite, for I heard the Messenger of God say to 'Ali, 'Only 'Ali is to me as Harun was to Musa, excepting only that there shall be no prophet after me."' [16]

A point to be noted in this tradition is that since the Arabic particle innama (only) implies exclusivity, the Prophet cannot have meant 'Ali's deputyship to be temporary, for he also appointed others as his deputies from time to time. 'Umar's words also imply that he understood the Prophet's declaration to make 'Ali his equal in all respects except prophethood, for he told the man who insulted 'Ali, "You are a hypocrite." His hypocrisy was indeed worse than open unbelief.

However high be the rank of a believer, to insult him entails neither unbelief nor hypocrisy. 'Umar and many of the Companions used to insult each other, but no one ever interpreted this kind of behavior as entailing unbelief or hypocrisy. However, insulting the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, does indeed entail unbelief, and it can therefore be said that 'Umar b. al-Khattab understood the words of the Prophet to mean that 'Ali, peace be upon him, had the same rank as the Prophet himself.

The hadith of the Ark (hadith al-safinah) is one more of the well-known and universally accepted traditions found in the books of celebrated Sunni scholars that establish the worthiness of the Prophet's family for assuming the leadership and direction of the Islamic ummah, Abu Dharr al-Ghifari relates the Prophet to have said: "The People of my Household are for you like the Ark of Nuh (Noah). Whoever embarks on it will be saved and whoever turns away from it will be drowned." [17]

With these words the Prophet depicts clearly the rank of his family and their fundamental role in guiding mankind and giving direction to the Islamic ummah. He warns against the perilous consequences of abondoning the lofty and salvific persons of his house, a course that will lead whoever chooses it to darkness and misguidance.

The sense of comparing the People of the House (Ahl al-Bayt) to the Ark of Nuh is that whoever follows their guidelines in fulfilling his religious duties and whose acts conforms to their commands is guaranteed salvation from the awesome punishment that awaits on the Day of Judgement Whoever rebels and disobeys, who distances himself from that axis of orientation, is like the one who sought refuge from the dreadful tempest on the mountaintops instead of in the Ark of Nuh. The only difference is that the latter met his death by drowning, while the former will be submerged in the torment of hellfire and eternal perdition.

The Most Noble Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, said in description of the People of his House:

"The People of my House are like the stars that help men find their way on sea and dry land and deliver them from misguidance and errance." [18]

He said further. "Whoever seeks refuge with the People of my House will be safe from misguidance and ruin, and whoever opposes them will fall prey to discord and divergence and join the party of Satan." [19]

From the traditions just cited can be deduced also the dimensions of the House, for whoever is exposed to the possibility of committing error and sin, of deviating from the clear guidelines laid down by the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, will never be able to save others from falling into the pit of misery and misguidance or to bring about that radical change in modes of thought, feeling and social organization that is needed to ensure eternal felicity.

It would be possible to object against the Shi'ah or to condemn them for the path they have elected only if their obedience to the People of the Prophet's House were inspired by something other than his instructions and recommendations. Such, however, is not the case.

When the first caliph appointed the second caliph as his successor, what word or sentence did he use? Did he use more than one sentence to indicate that the office of caliphate and leadership of the Muslims that he had exercised now fell to the lot of 'Umar? By contrast, there are numerous expressions and sentences from the Prophet, clear and explicit in meaning, concerning 'Ali; do they not suffice to prove his leadership and succession? The words of the Prophet are far clearer and more explicit than those used by the first caliph; are they not enough to prove at least the claim of 'Ali to religious leadership? Fair-minded and intelligent people can judge for themselves.

The scholars and leading figures of the Sunni community have regarded it as necessary to follow the views and teachings of the founders of the four schools of Sunni law, even though there is no hadith from the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, enjoining such obedience. We can therefore discern no adequate reason for these same scholars to ignore the teachings of the People of the Prophet's House, in the face of his clear declaration that the Our'an and the People of the House will remain inextricably linked until the Day of Judgement. [20]

What is even more remarkable is that some of the founders of the four legal schools were themselves students of the People of the House and benefited from their erudition. A leading Sunni scholar remarks:

"All Islamic scholars, irrespective of the school to which they belong, are unanimously agreed on the accomplishments and learning of Imam al-Sadiq, peace be upon him. Sunni Imams who were his contemporaries studied with him and derived knowledge from him. Malik learned from him, as did some of the contemporaries of Malik such as Sufyan b.

'Uyaynah, Sufyan al-Thawri, and many others. Abu Hanifah, whose lifetime more or less corresponded to that of Imam al-Sadiq, peace be upon him, studied religious knowledge with him and regarded him as the most learned man of the age." [21]

Ibn Hajar, another Sunni scholar, relates Imam al-Shafi'i to have said: "The Household of the Prophet is my means of salvation, and they are my means of drawing near to the Prophet. It is my hope that for their sake the record of my deeds will be given into my right hand on the Day of Judgement." [22]

Again al-Shafi'i said: "O People of the Prophet's House, love for you has been made obligatory by God through mention in the Qur'an. Sufficient cause of pride it is for you that whoever fails to invoke blessings on you in his prayer will fail to have his devotions (salat) accepted." [23]

Unlike the views of the mujtahids who founded the four Sunni schools, there is no contradiction or divergence among the teachings of the People of the House, for they were not engaged in independent reasoning on the ordinances of religion. Their teachings are identical with those of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family, of which the Imams of the People of the House were infallibly aware. The utterances of the Imams cannot therefore be placed on the same level as the views of the founders of the four Sunni schools.

In view of all this, how can it be justified to ignore and neglect the teachings of the People of the House?

[1] See Qur'an, 26:214.

[2] Ahmad b. Hanbal, al-Musnad, Vol. I, pp. 111, 159. Ibn al-Athir, al-Kamil, Vol. II, p.22; al-Tabari, al-Tafsir, Vol. II, p. 216; Abu al-Fida', al-Tarikh, Vol. I, p. 119; al-Ganji, Kifayatal-Talib, p.89. al-Nasa'i, al-Khasa'is, p. 18; al-Halabi, al-Sirah, Vol. I, p.304; Ibn Abi 'l-Hadid, Sharh, Vol. III, p. 255; al-Suyuti, Jam' al-Jawami', Vol. VI, p. 408; al-Khifaji, Sharh al-Shifa', Vol. III, p. 37.

[3] Ibn Hisham, al-Sirah, Vol. I, p.245.

[4]al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 312.

[5]Ibn Majah, al-Sunan, Vol. I, p. 44; al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 112.

[6] al-Tabari, Tarikh, Vol. II, p. 172.

[7] al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 63; al-Nasa'i, al-Khasa'is ., p. 63; al-Hamawini, Fara'id al-simtayn, Vol. I, p. 328 al-Dhahabi, Talkhis al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 132; Ahmad b. Hanbal, al-Musnad, Vol. I, p. 331; al-Khwarazmi, al-Manaqib, p. 72; al-Ganji, Kifayat al-Talib, p. 116; Ibn Asakir, al-Tarikh al-Kabir, Vol. I, p. 203; al-Biladhuri, Ansab al-Ashraf, Vol. II, p. 106; Ibn Kathir, al-Bidayah, Vol. VII, p. 338; al-'Asqalani, al-Isabah, Vol. II, p.509.

[8] Muslim, al-Sahih, Vol. VII, p. 120; Ibn 'Asakir, al-Tarikh al-Kabir, Vol. I, p. 334; Ibn Kathir, al-Bidayah, Vol. VII, p. 341; al-Muttaqi al-Hindi, Kanz al-'Ummal, Vol. XIII, p. 163; Ibn Majah, al-Sunan, Vol. I, p.58; al-Nasa'i, al-Khasa'is, p.50; al-Qunduzi, Yanabi' al-Mawaddah, p. 51.

[9] See Qur'an, 20:29-32.

[10] al-Muttaqi al-Hindi, Kanz al-'Ummal, Vol. V, p.31.

[11] al-Halabi, al-Sirah, Vol. II, p. 97. Ibn Hisham, al-Sirah, Vol. I, p.505.

[12]Ibn Sa'd, al-Tabaqat, Vol. VIII, p. 114.

[13] Ibn 'Abd al-Barr, al-Isti'ab, Vol. II, p. 460; al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, Tarikh Baghdadi, Vol. XII, p. 268; al-Firuzabadi, Fada'il al-Khhamsah, Vol. I, p.114.

[14] al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 414; al-Tirmidhi, Jami' al-Sahih, Vol. V

[15] al-Muttaqi al-Hindi, Kanz al-'Ummal, Vol. VI, p. 395.

[16] Ibn , Asakir, al-Tarikh al-Kabir, Vol. I, pp. 360-61; al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, Tarikh Baghdad, Vol. VII, p.453.

[17]al-Muttaqi al-Hindi, Kanz al-'Ummal, Vol. I, p. 250; Ibn Hajar, al-Sawa'iq, p. 75; al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 343; al-Qunduzi, Yanabi' al-Mawaddah, p. 257. Ibn al-Sabbagh, al-Fusul al-Muhimmah, p. 10; al-Sabban, Is'af al-Raghibin, p. 111; al-Shiblanji, Nur al-Absar, p. 114.

[18] Ibn Hajar, al-Sawa'iq, p. 140; al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 149.

[19] Ibn Hajar, al-Sawa'iq, p. 140; al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak, Vol. III, p. 149.

[20] Ahmad b. Hanbal, al-Musnad, Vol. V, p. 181.

[21]Shaykh Muhammad Abu Zahrah, al-Imam al-Sadiq, p.66.

[23] Ibn Hajar, al-Sawa'iq, p. 108. See too al-Firuzabadi, Fada'il al-Khamsah, Vol. II, p.81.

[24] al-Shiblanji, Nur al-Absar, p. 104.

The prophetic hadiths indecating 'Ali's worth of following

The Prophetic traditions which indicate that Ali should be followed

The prophetic traditions which persuaded me to follow Imam Ali were those I have read in the Sihahs of the Sunnis and were approved by the Shiites, and they have many more. But as usual I only referred to the prophetic traditions that have been agreed on by both parties, and here are some of them:

A. The Prophetic tradition: "I am the city of Knowledge and Ali is its gate."

This tradition [88] alone should be sufficient to indicate the example that has to he followed after the Messenger of Allah (saw) because the educated man ought to be followed.

[88]

Mustadrak, al Hakim, vol 3 p 127

Tarikh, Ibn Kathir, vol 7 p 358

Allah - the Most High - said:

Say: "Are those who know and those who do not know alike?"

[Holy Quran 39:9]

He also said:

"Is He then Who guides to the truth more worthy to be followed, or he who himself does not go aright unless he is guided? What then is the matter with you; how do you judge?" [Holy Quran 10:35]

History has recorded many facts telling us that Ali was the most knowledgeable man among all the Companions and they used to consult him on every important matter, and we do not know of any event in which he declined to give his advice.

Abu Bakr said, "May Allah never put me in a predicament that Abu al-Hasan cannot solve. " And Umar said, "If it was not for Ali, Umar would have perished." [89]

[89]

al Isti'ab, vol 3 p 39

Manaqib al Khawarizmi, p 48

al Riyadh al Nadirah, vol 2 p 194

And Ibn Abbas said, "My knowledge and the knowledge of the Companions of Muhammad(saw) is but a drop in seven seas if compared with Ali's knowledge."

And this is what Imam Ali said about himself, "Ask me before you lose me. By Allah, if you ask me about anything that could happen up to the Day of Judgement, I will tell you about it. Ask me about the Book of Allah, because by Allah there is no [Qur'anic] verse that I do not know whether it was revealed during the night or the day, or whether it was revealed on a plain or on a mountain." [90]

[90]

al Riyadh al-Nadirah, vol 2 p 198

Tarikh, Suyuti, p 124

al Itqan, Suyuti, vol 2 p 319

Fath al Bari, vol 8 p 485

Tadhib al Tadhib, vol 7 p 338

Abu Bakr was once asked about the meaning of the word "Abb" [herbage] in the words of Allah, the Most High:

"And fruits and herbage, A provision for you and for your cattle" [Holy Quran 80:31-32]

Abu Bakr replied, "Which sky would give me shade, and which land would carry me if I say something I do not know about the Book of Allah." And this is Umar saying. "All people are more knowledgeable than I am, even women." He was once asked about the meaning of a Qur'anic verse, and his reaction was to rebuke the man and beat him until he bled, then he said, "Do not ask about matters which may appear bad to you." [91]

[91]

Sunan, al Darimi, vol 1 p 54

Tafsir, Ibn Katheer, vol 4 p 232

Tafsir, Suyuti, vol 6p 111

Also he was asked about "al-Kalalah" but he did not know what it meant.

In his "commentary", al-Tabari stated that Umar once said the following, "My knowledge of al-Kalalah is more valuable to me than owning a palace similar to those in Syria."

In one of his books, Ibn Maja quoted Umar as saying "There are three things, if they were explained by the Messenger of Allah, I would have loved them more dearly than anything in the world: Al-Kalalah, usury and the caliphate." God forbid that the Messenger of Allah stayed silent on these subjects!

B. The Prophetic tradition: O Ali! You hold in relation to me the same position as Haroon held in relation to Moses, except that there shall be no prophet after me.

This tradition, as should be apparent to every sensible person, shows the special quality of the Commander of the Believers, Ali, which made him the right person to be the supporter, the guardian and the deputy [or successor] of the Messenger of Allah as Haroon was the supporter, guardian and deputy of Moses when he went to meet his God. There is also the position of Ali vis-a-vis the Prophet which is absolutely equal to the relation between Haroon and Moses, except for the prophethood, which was excluded in the same tradition.

Furthermore, we find in the tradition the fact that Imam Ali was the best Companion, who only came second after the Messenger of Allah (saw).

C. The Prophetic tradition: Ali is the master of all those of whom I am master. O Allah! Love him who loves him and hate him who hates him, help him who helps him, forsake him who forsakes him, and turn justice with him wherever he turns.

This tradition alone is sufficient to reply to the allegations concerning the seniority of Abu Bakr, Umar and Uthman to Ali, who was appointed by the Messenger of Allah as the guardian after him of all the faithful. It is of no consequence for whoever tried to interpret the saying as the friend or the support in order to divert it from its original meaning so that the integrity of the Companions may be kept intact. The Messenger of Allah stood up in the terrible heat addressing the people, saying, "Do you witness that I have a prior right to and superior authority over all the faithful?" They replied, "Yes, O Messenger of Allah. " Thereupon he said, "Ali is the master of all those whom I am a master. . . etc." This is a clear text indicating that the Messenger of Allah had appointed Ali as his successor to lead the nation [of Islam], and the fair and sensible person could not but accept this interpretation and refuse that of the others, thus preserving the integrity of the Messenger of Allah before preserving the integrity of the Companions. Those who give an alternative interpretation to the saying are in fact ridiculing the wisdom of the Messenger of Allah, who gathered the multitude of people, in that unbearable heat, to tell them that Ali was the friend and supporter of the faithful. And what do those, who misinterpret the text in order to preserve the integrity of their masters, say about the procession of congratulation that the Messenger of Allah organised for Ali? It started with the wives of the Messenger, the mothers of the faithful, then Abu Bakr and Umar came and said to him, "Well done Ibn Abi Talib, Overnight you became the guardian [master] of all the faithful."

In fact all the historical evidence gives clear indications that those who misinterpret the above tradition are liars. Woe to those who wrote what they wrote, and woe to them for what they are writing. Allah - the Most High - said. "...a party of them most surely conceal the truth while they know it" [Holy Qur'an 2:146].

D. The Prophetic tradition: Ali is from me and I am from Ali and no one can discharge my duty except myself or Ali.

This honourable tradition [92] is another clear indication that Imam Ali was only one whom the Messenger authorized to discharge his duties. The Messenger said it on the day of the great pilgrimage when he sent Ali with Surat Bara'a instead of Abu Bakr, who came crying and asked, "O Messenger of Allah ! Reveal something for me." The Messenger answered, "My Lord ordered me that nobody can discharge my duty except myself or Ali."

[92]

Sunan, Ibn Majah, vol 1 p 44

Khasais, al Nasai, p 20

Sahih, al Tirmidhi, vol 5 p 300

Jami al Usul, Ibn Kathir, vol 9 p 471

al Jami al Saghir, al Suyuti, vol 2 p 56

al Riyadh al Nadirah, Tabari, vol 2p 229

There is another supporting tradition that the Messenger of Allah, said on another occasion in honour of Ali, "O Ali! You will show them the right path when there will be dissension among them after me." [93] If nobody could discharge the Messenger of Allah's duty except Ali, and if he was the one who would show them the right path after dissension appeared among them after him; then how could a person who did not know the meaning of "al-Abb" and "Kalalah" be more senior to Ali? This is sadly one of the tragedies that have been inflicted on our nation and prevented it from doing the duties that Allah has chosen for it. We could not blame Allah or the Messenger of Allah or the Commander of the Believers Ali ibn Abi Talib for that, but the blame falls squarely on those who rebelled and changed, and Allah - the most High - said: "And when it is said to them, "Come to what Allah has revealed and to the Messenger. They say, "That on which we found our fathers is sufficient for us. " What! Even though their fathers knew nothing and did not follow the right way" [Holy Qur'an 5:104].

[93]

Tarikh, Ibn Askir, vol 2 p 488

Kunuz al Haqa'iq, al Mauawi, p 203

Kanz al Ummal, vol 5 p 33

E. The Prophetic tradition of the House on the day of Warning.

The Prophet of Allah (saw) said, indicating Ali. This is my brother, my trustee and my deputy [caliph] after me, so listen to him and obey him." [94]

[94]

Tarikh, al Tabari, vol 2 p319

al Sirah al Halabiyah, vol 1 p 311

Shawahid al Tanzil, vol 1 p 371

Kanz al Ummal, vol 15 p 15

Tarikh, Ibn Asakir, vol 1 p 85

Tafsir, Ala al Din al Shafi'i, vol 3 p 371

The Life of Muhammad by Hasanyn Haykal, First Edition (Section on: And admonish your nearest, your kinsmen)

This is yet another correct tradition cited by many historians at the beginning of the prophetic mission, and considered as one of the Prophet's miracles. However, political intrigues distorted the facts. Then there is no wonder that the oppression which took place then is coming back again in our lifetime. For example, Muhammad Husayn Haykal reproduced the saying in its entirety in his book "The Life of Muhammad", (Page 104, First Edition 1334 Hijri). From the Second Edition onward, the part of the tradition where the Prophet says, "He is my trustee, my deputy [caliph] after me" has been removed.

Also, in al-Tabari's commentary [Tafsir], Volume 19. Page 121, when the Prophet says "My trustee and my deputy [caliph]" was changed to "This is my brother etc. etc", but they failed to recognize that al-Tabari had cited the tradition in its entirety in his Annals Volume 2, Page 319. Look how they change the words and distort the facts ... they want to put out the light of Allah with their mouths, but Allah is spreading His light.

During my investigation I wanted to see the truth, so I searched for the first edition of "The Life of Muhammad". and after some hard work - praise be to Allah - found it, although it cost me considerably. The important thing is that I looked at the distortion and became convinced that the evil people are trying the best they can do to remove the facts. because there is strong evidence in the hands of their "enemies".

When the fair investigator comes across such a blatant distortion, he will no doubt begin to keep away from them and become convinced that they have no evidence except lies and distorted facts. They hire writers to whom they give money, titles and false university degrees in order to write for them books and articles through which they insult the Shiites and accuse them of blasphemy, while at the same time they defend the position, even if it is unjust, of some of the Companions who turned on their heels and exchanged right for wrong after the departure of the Messenger of Allah.

Allah says: "Even thus said those before them, the like of what they say; their hearts are all alike. Indeed We have made the verses clear for a people who are sure." [Holy Quran 2:118]

4 notes · View notes